


musings

by Ulfr



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 01:52:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3877861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulfr/pseuds/Ulfr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Musings on hair. Oneshot, drabble-ish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	musings

**Author's Note:**

> We all know Aang had to have sat down some time thought about hair for a looong time. It's not that ridiculous, c'mon. Found this, something I'd written ages ago and thought I'd post it. Unbetaed, all mistakes mine.

 

 

There was something about hair...

Aang could understand the appeal of hair.

On the right heads and under the guidance of the right hands hair could be soft, smooth, and very pleasant to the touch. To feel. 

Katara's certainly looked nice—although hers did get tangled often, she revealed once at a camp fire in a burst of frustration as she was about to embark on another valiant battle to tame the dark locks.

The monks cut their hair and shave their heads to symbolize the cutting off of all earthly attachments and the shedding of their past lives and misdeeds. The ladies could grow their hair from a young age, but no one stopped or looked at anybody weirdly if they too shaved off their heads.

Sokka's hair was short, not too long, and styled in a way that according to him, resembled a wolf's tail...That kind of thing seems important.

Toph was different from what Aang thought a girl was. She was tough at  _all_  times, compared to Katara, and wasn't a compassionate, gentle mother-figure like Katara. She didn't mind much if she rank, played around in mud, and loved a covering of dust on her, like a protective barrier, at all times.  _Her_ hair was short too, like Sokka's, but not tied up like his. Where Sokka's looked unruly when let down, Toph's was straight and looked good on her. It had, Aang supposed, as her family wouldn't want it any other way.

Toph acted like she was a guy most of the time, and it felt like she was too. So far, people with short hair seemed to be people who were more carefree and took freedom to extremes...Yeah, that sounded a lot like almost all guys Aang had met, he thought with a grin.

Sukki's was short too, but she was also tough most of the time, and was a warrior who fought ferociously for her people. But so did the rest of the Kyoshi Warriors—and not all them had short lengths of hair. And Sokka's not really all that tough most of the time either, unless he had a good reason to be. So no, hair and its length  _obviously_  did not mean it had an affect on its owner's personality. Or that anybody who preferred it styled or grown in a certain way had to possess certain attributes. Or gender.  Aang knew that, of course.

A lot of kings and queens had long hair. Some were held up or like the Earth King's was braided in a special pattern. Immaculate. Bumi was different though, he though with a smile, remembering their crazy antics together when they were younger. But all kings held great power, and with that, great responsibility. The Earth King seemed very approachable, and someone anyone could make friends with, but even he held his duties and responsibilities with utmost seriousness and importance.

Appa's was actually called  _fur_  but there really wasn't much of a difference. It was soft, and he was great to sleep on. Except he moved a  _lot_ in his sleep whenever Aang actually minded the hard ground when there were no available beds around. Which was why it wasn't so often—the hard ground bit that is.

His favorite of course, was Zuko's. Simply for the fact that he  _loved_ curling his hands deep within the fine, inky black strands of hair. Especially when they were busy locking tongues and only they existed in the world. When Zuko kissed and sucked at his collar bone, when...they were doing _other_  things, Aang thought with a blush.

When Aang first caught a glimpse of the Fire Nation Prince, the thick aura of anger and rage in the air was so intense it was almost palpable, to any and all around him. What anyone else—although perhaps with the exception of his uncle—didn't see under all the rage was the agonizing pain, the sorrow that brought one to one's knees, and self-loathing and hatred would make anyone spill tears at the feel of it. There was shame too, and all of it was covered up by arrogance and pride, concealed so well no one would ever be able to see it. The shedding off of hair was to symbolize renewal, rebirth, like the changing of seasons...Zuko was giving something up. And yet, he clung to it, with all the will he could muster, like a drowning man clawing for the air above the water that imprisoned him, with his dying breath.

_Hope._

And no, Aang didn't get all that just from Zuko's shaved head minus pony-tail.

But Zuko was  _different_ now, and Aang was more than just  _glad_. His Zuko was  _happy._ There were some scars far beyond the surface that would remain, but they would only fester so long as Zuko would not  _confront_ them. Aang wasn't there with all the way from the beginning when Zuko battled his inner demons and the pain of his past, when his soul was wrecked and shredded by his own deeds and everything that happened around that made his world feel like it was spiraling out of control. He wasn't there  _before._  And he didn't love him then like he did  _now,_ with pure and burning love that rivaled the power of many suns.

He was here now. 

When Zuko awakened screaming from dreams the parts of his tortured mind could not handle being left to be forgotten, Aang was  _there._ When he finally just  _let go_ and cried—it was only ever  _Aang  _ who knew, who saw, and who held him all the way through. In the rare times when  Zuko would sometimes tell him about his mother, about the love he held for his sister when they were young, about _everything_ , when the dolt would just stop acting like he was all alone, Aang was there. It was Aang who battled and held the monsters that followed Zuko from his childhood at bay in the deepest parts of the night and the darkest of days. It was Aang who laid beside him after, who smoothed his hand through Zuko's hair, covered him with his own body and guarded him through out the rest of the night or day. It was Aang who promised to be there for Zuko for as long as the young Airbender lived.

And only Aang could ever touch Zuko's hair, simply because he felt like it. Aang thought it was fair. After all, he didn't let just anyone touch his bald plate.

 


End file.
